


To Hold a New Day

by Maygra



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Drama, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magnificent Seven AU: ATF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 00:13:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1166288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maygra/pseuds/Maygra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>New year's eve causes some problems during an op.</p><p>This started out as a New Year's eve fic but that's what happens when I get inspired after my bedtime. So, this is fluff....but it's angsty fluff. It goes nowhere and is a mood piece more than anything. No great revelations are made and no animals broke legs or had to be garroted in the creation of this fic...not even a plot bunny. </p><p>Originally posted January 2002</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Hold a New Day

Chris fidgeted, checking the gains on the mics that were his only link to the other members of his team and got a glare from JD for messing with the controls. He checked the clock, watching the LED roll over to 23:21 and bit back the urge to have them all check in again -- even though they'd done it just five minutes before. 

Ezra's contacts were late. Polite bastards that they were, they had called and now his men were freezing their butts off in a warehouse that hadn't seen use since before prohibition was repealed and was missing half its roof. He was cold too, although out of the wind. They couldn't keep the heaters in the van running for more than a few minutes at a time or the windows would frost over. Both he and JD were wearing gloves and JD had his eye on a half dozen monitors covering the streets and inside the warehouse. 

Ezra and Nathan were probably the most comfortable of them, settled into Ezra's jag in the middle of the warehouse, motor running. Ezra had on some opera on in the CD player but he had it low and Chris couldn't quite identify it, even though parts sounded familiar. Buck and Josiah were inside as well, tucked in near the only other two exits save the main bay doors. Halfway down the block Team 3 was waiting in another van and hidden in the alleys surrounding the warehouse. 

He watched the clock, barely waiting for the display to roll over to 23:30 before checking in again. "Base one to team 7. Check in." He got three calls and a double before switching channels and letting JD know with a show of fingers who he was talking to. "Base one to four, how you holding up Vin?" 

"I'm freezing my nuts off up here," Vin Tanner shot back, soft as a whisper but Chris could hear the smile in the Texan's voice. Vin was tucked in near the roof and even with extra clothes he knew his partner was wearing, Chris was most worried about him. He had personal reasons, but primarily and right now was the fact that Vin was the one most exposed to the elements and had been for nearly two hours. It wasn't just his physical comfort Chris was worried about. Cold could make a man slow and affect his equipment as well. It hadn't been quite so bad earlier, before the wind picked up, but now it was below freezing. "You want me to call it?" Chris asked and he was serious. He trusted Vin to tell him if his performance was going to be affected. 

"Naw. Give 'em another thirty, Chris. Be nice to ring in the new year with these boys behind bars. But man...there better be someplace warm for me when we get done." 

"I think I can guarantee that, pard," Chris said with a small smile and then glared at JD when he snickered. "Call it if you need to, Vin." 

"You'll be the first to know, boss," Vin said and Chris switched back to an open channel. 

They were close to calling it when JD saw the van approaching. 

"Base one to Team 7, Team 3. Target approaching," Chris called out, feeling the rush of adrenaline. The van pulled into the warehouse slowly and Ezra and Nathan opened the doors of the Jag, climbing out as the van rolled to a stop. 

Nathan had the briefcase and carried it forward, Chris barely listening to the exchange of greetings between Ezra and Stuart Windham. Nathan didn't make any attempt to hide the fact he was carrying a gun although it looked as though Windham was not. He was a tall, lean man, skin darker than Nathan's and he stood to one side as his three lieutenants brought out an aluminum container that looked like nothing so much as a truck box. They set it on the floor between the van and the Jag, and at Windham's nod, opened it, stepping back to let Ezra examine the merchandise. 

Chris' fingers tightened into a fist at a glimpse of the weapons. They were sleek, high tech and looked more like something he'd see in a movie but they were real and deadly and very, very illegal. High powered enough to deliver a standard bullet at a speed that would almost punch it through a Kevlar vest. Eighty rounds in the magazine, Ezra loading the magazine to check while Chris listened to Ezra describe it with just enough proprietary glee to convince Windham he was, indeed, a very eager buyer. 

"I have four cases, just like that, six guns to a case," Windham said, voice low and steady, enough street heaviness to the otherwise clipped words to make Chris wonder exactly where the guy had been before he'd shown up on the illegal arms market. They didn't know much about him or who is supplier was -- they hoped to find out. 

"Excellent, Mr. Windham," Ezra said with a large smile. "I believe the agreed upon price was eight thousand per?" 

Windham only nodded and Nathan opened the briefcase, holding it for Windham to check. Very briefly he met Nathan's eyes as he pulled out a stack of cash and fanned it then checked another bundle. He nodded and Nathan closed the case and at Windham's signal, his men started unloading the other cases, stacking them beside the first. 

So close and Chris was just waiting for Windham to take the money when the sky was suddenly bright and filled with noise. He glanced at the clock and saw the LED roll to midnight. "Shit," he said softly as Windham jerked back and looked up, his men doing the same. 

"Happy New Year, Mr. Windham," Ezra said trying to regain the man's attention as another bright blast illuminated the inside of the warehouse through the gaps in the roof. 

It might have worked, maybe, but it didn't and Chris didn't have to hear Windham shout anything to realize he'd made Vin. "Base one to all Teams! Move in, they've made Vin!" Over his headset he heard Buck call out, identifying them. 

"ATF! Stand as you are! Weapons down!" 

But Windham wasn't listening or couldn't hear and his men were armed. He barely caught sight of Nathan and Ezra diving for cover, Ezra falling in the awkward way that made Chris realize he'd been hit, but he had his own gun out, returning fire as he pushed himself to the scant protection of the Jag. "Get paramedics on call, JD," Chris hissed and then swore when Windham grabbed up the automatic, the one Ezra had loaded and been holding. 

He cut loose, firing toward the roof and then around, screaming like a madman. He aimed upward again as more fireworks went off and Chris was out of the van and running, seeing Team 3 taking the bay so no one could get out, but they couldn't get a clear shot at Windham. He was half protected by the van and the shots he fired were wild and unpredictable. His men were firing too, primarily at Ezra and Nathan, but Josiah and Buck were keeping them down, mostly. There was no return fire coming from the roof and Chris sent up a silent prayer that Vin was only keeping his head down. 

One of the men made the van and with a squeal of tires it was backing up, Team 3 firing but it kept coming and then slowed and stopped, almost blocking the bay, the driver slumped over the wheel, dead by a head shot and Chris had a half seconds relief knowing where the shot most likely originated from. Chris came around, got a bead on Windham and fired just as another shot caught him from the front. The assault rifle kept firing for a few moments, then clattered down to the floor. The other two men suddenly stopped, flinging their weapons aside and Team 3 moved in. 

"Base one to four," Chris called, watching Richard McMillan and his guys get the two cuffed and Miranda'd, while Josiah checked the two down. Windham was dead as was the driver. "Vin!" he snapped into his headset, checking on Ezra as he ran toward the far wall where the ladder was. Nathan was already working on Ezra and gave Chris a quick nod. 

Buck met him at a half run, looking upward, his fear mirroring Chris' own when Vin didn't answer. "Tanner, check in!" Chris said, reaching for the first rung as McMillan called out the "Secure!" signal. 

"Yeah! Yeah! I'm here!" Vin answered but not through the headset, he shouted down and Chris looked up. "Headset's gone," he called down. 

"Are you okay?" 

"Well...mostly," Vin called down and Chris passed his gun to Buck and started climbing. 

"What the hell does 'mostly' mean, Tanner?" That was Nathan. 

"It means most of me is okay, Nathan. What't'hell didya think I meant?" Vin shouted back and Chris had to grin while he climbed. Whatever it was, it wasn't too bad...then again. 

He wanted a fucking safety harness he decided, crossing the steel girders to where Vin was tucked in amid the joints and bracing. There was a platform of sorts where the sections came together and Vin was there, getting to his knees from his belly down position. He had blood on his face from a cut on his scalp, but he grinned at Chris as he fought to sit up, breathing a little harshly, breath crystallizing in a dense plume of fog. 

"How much is mostly?" Chris asked, reaching out to wipe the blood from Vin's face and the other man blinked and touched the cut, wincing. 

"Well, mostly more...didn't feel that one," he said and got to his feet with some effort, Chris reaching out to steady him. Vin took a breath and winced and Chris' smile faded. 

"You take a hit?" he asked suddenly more concerned. 

"Ohhh," Vin groaned a little. "Yeah. Couple of them. Damn near knocked me off," Vin said and he was less shaken than Chris was. Another explosion lit the sky and Vin looked up and smiled. "Damn pretty. Now." 

"Yeah," Chris said and took a breath. "How 'bout we get you someplace warmer and make sure you didn't break anything?" He studied Vin, the knit cap pulled over his hair, the bulky jacket and vest beneath, thin gloves meant to keep his skin from sticking to the trigger, not keep his hands warm. "Did you get the guy in the van?" 

Vin nodded, easy smile fading. "Yeah. Couldn't get to Windham...glad somebody did." Chris bit back the obvious comment -- that Vin had been lucky to get any shots off. "How is Ezra?" Vin asked quietly and looked down. Ezra was sitting next to the rear tire of the Jag, a blanket over him and Nathan fussing. Ezra was arguing back. 

"Looks like he'll be okay. Should have an ambulance here soon." 

"I couldn't get to him...Windham..." he frowned again and started breaking down his rifle. 

"Jesus, Vin. I think you were a little busy..." Chris said and then bit back whatever else he was going to say at the look Vin gave him. 

It took Vin a few moments to get the rifle packed and Chris let him go first, his opinion being that Vin was moving a little stiffly. He made it down, though, and then jogged over to where the paramedics were trying to convince Ezra to get on the stretcher while Ezra insisted he could walk. 

"Not bad," Nathan told Chris quietly. "Gonna be sore. Took it across the top of the shoulder." Chris nodded and then broke into the argument. 

"Standish!" he snapped, and the both the paramedics and Ezra fell silent. "Get on the damn stretcher before I make sure you can't walk out of here," he said, face and voice hard and cold. In truth, he was a little concerned. Ezra was too pale for this cold and while the green eyes showed defiance, there was also a shadow there. And Vin was bent over, breathing a little too heavily for Chris' liking. "Ambulance will be warmer, anyway. You too, Vin." 

"What--?" Vin stared and Chris scowled at him. 

"Get your ribs checked out and that cut stitched and let us close this down." 

Vin looked like he wanted to protest, but he glanced at Ezra then at Chris and nodded. "All right. But I'm walking," he said, blue eyes flashing. He passed the rifle case to Chris. "Two shots." 

Chris nodded and Vin moved, walking alongside the stretcher and waiting until they'd loaded Ezra before climbing in. The paramedics closed the doors and the ambulance pulled away. Chris sighed and shook his head. "Let's mop this up and get home, boys," he said and stared upward as another brilliant display burst over head. "Helluva way to start the new year." 

________________________________________ 

Inside the ambulance, Vin let the paramedic clean the cut and bandage it, but there was swelling and it was the paramedic's opinion he'd need stitches. He'd waved the medic off when he asked Vin to remove the Kevlar vest and wanted to check his ribs. "Government equipment...easier to wear it than carry it," Vin said and the truth was, he still felt cold, right to his bones, shivers and tremors still racing through him even though the ambulance was the warmest place he'd been in a couple of hours. They had Ezra on an IV already, his shirt and coat half off and they had cleaned the graze but otherwise there wasn't much they could do. 

"'M sorry, Ez," Vin said, glad the sirens weren't running. He already had a headache. 

Ezra gave him a long look and shook his head. "I should be apologizing , Mr. Tanner. I should have pulled the clip." 

Vin looked up at him and smiled a little. "Yeah. Ya should have. Still..." His smile faded. "I'm still sorry. Couldn't get the shot." 

Ezra leaned forward a little and touched the bandage at Vin's scalp line. "I'd say you were lucky you didn't take a shot," he said, green eyes serious. 

"I duck fast," Vin said with another small grin. 

"Lucky for me, so do I," Ezra said. "Not quite how I'd hoped to start the New Year," he said. 

Vin grinned at him. "Yeah, well we started it alive. I'm thinking that's a great way to end a year and start a new one." 

Ezra smiled back. "Excellent point, Mr. Tanner. Although, I admit I prefer to ring in the New Year with a glass of excellent champagne and a certain lack of firepower." 

Vin chuckled and rubbed his face. He felt sore all over and now that the rush was done, a little nauseated. "Yeah. I could have done with a little less firepower myself -- or fireworks. I'm all for staying up to see the dawn of the new year. Guess I'll miss it. We're gonna have paperwork to fill out until next New Years." He said it to tease Ezra but privately, he hoped they could get it cleared up before sunrise. He'd promised the dawn to somebody. 

"Nevertheless, I'm sorry," Ezra said again and Vin waved him off then sat back. 

"I'll let you make it up to me. You can buy me a drink when this is over." 

"Name the time and place, Mr. Tanner." 

They pulled into the Emergency room pull-through and Vin waited for them to unload Ezra before climbing out on his own. His legs felt shaky and almost buckled under him when he stepped down. One of the paramedics turned to him in concern and Vin shook his head. "Just wore out," he said and took a deep breath when the doors opened and a blast of warm air caught him. The deep breath hurt but the warmth felt wonderful. He followed them in, trailing after the stretcher and hesitated at the desk. The ER was busy and given a choice Vin would have passed but the paramedic who'd bandaged his head wasn't going to let him out of his sight and Vin found himself in an exam room, sitting on a table. A nurse came in, looking a little harried but she smiled. 

"Jason said you took a hit on the head and we're to check your ribs?" she said, eyeing him as she took his pulse. Vin pulled the cap off his head and pushed his hand through the tangled curls, feeling a sweaty but still cold. "Got a name?" 

"Vin Tanner. Think I'm okay, ma'am. Just cold and tired." 

"All Right, Mr. Tanner. I'm Ruby. And you're here now, so let's have a look," she said and helped him pull his jacket off and the oversized flannel shirt he wore underneath. Vin reached to pull the straps on the vest and felt a pull at his side that made him swallow, tasting bile. Ruby called in an orderly to help him, the vest heavy, waiting until Vin pulled his arm free before putting a blood pressure cuff on his arm. 

Shucking the vest, another wave of dizziness and nausea rose and he caught a glimpse of Ruby's panicked face as he realized he was falling. Strong arms caught him eased him back onto the exam table and the last thing Vin remembered was Ruby reaching for the call button, her small hand pressed to his side painfully. "Code Two, Treatment Four, Stat!" 

He really thought he ought to know what that meant and hoped it wouldn't take too long. He had a sunrise to catch with Chris. 

________________________________________ 

It was nearly an hour before they wrapped up the bulk of the mop up at the warehouse, Chris staying to the end and sending Josiah ahead to check on Vin and Ezra. It was mostly routine stuff: coroner; evidence pick up, forms, prelim reports, securing the scene. It started snowing in the middle of it all, big, thick white flakes drifting through the open roof. Not until the last wagon was loaded and he'd check the area again did Chris seek out the van and ask JD to head for the hospital. 

He called Josiah's cell only to get no service, guessing the man had it off inside the hospital and tried the front desk. 

The admissions clerk showed Ezra in the system but not Vin and Chris frowned. 

"What's wrong, Chris?" JD asked, catching the look. "Ezra okay?" 

"Have him listed as good. Don't show Vin though." 

"Might be busy. It is New Years eve. Vin said he was okay...might just have an ER full of drunk accidents." 

"Could be," Chris admitted -- reasonable explanation but it felt wrong. Or he was tired. They weren't far but he had JD drop him off at the ER entrance before parking the van in an official business slot. 

The ER was packed, and for a moment Chris relaxed, but he didn't see Vin. It took him a moment to find Josiah and for a second he couldn't breathe. Josiah was leaning against the wall, hands clasped and lips moving. Chris moved purposefully, dodging other people in the crowded room, to reach the big man. 

"'ziah," he said, gripping the man's arm. 

Josiah met his gaze and set his shoulders before reaching out to grip Chris' shoulder. "Chris...I don't know anything. Ezra's okay. Vin's...not. But I don't know any more." 

Chris shook his head. "What do you mean, not?" he asked, not sure he was hearing right. 

"Took me time to find him. He never even got checked in. They took him to an exam room and I was headed back, when they wouldn't let me in. Looked bad, Chris. Crash cart and doctors--" 

Chris felt bile rise and his knees weaken, gripping Josiah's arm for support. "But he was fine. He was walking...he climbed down the damn ladder!" 

"I know, I know," Josiah said, gripping both of Chris' arms. "There was a lot of blood..." 

Chris pulled himself away, glaring at Josiah and then pushed through the double doors, bearing down on the desk. "You've got one of my men here. Vin Tanner, ATF," he told the admitting clerk. 

The woman looked startled but she checked the system, "I'm not showing a ..." 

"They called a code!" Chris snapped, catching the attention of several other nurses and doctors and Chris could care less. 

"Please, sir, I'll see what I can find out--" 

Another nurse came running up, passing a single sheet of paper over. "Get it in, Stat. Got orders waiting," she said. "Don't worry about the rest." 

The admitting nurse nodded and looked down as did Chris and saw Vin's name on the sheet. Without waiting for permission, he was following the nurse, ignoring the clerk's calls and Josiah's warning. 

He caught her, gripping her shoulder and the nurse turned around, warning flashing in her dark eyes. "You're working on Vin Tanner," he said and stopped, seeing blood on her scrubs. 

Her expression eased. "Yes...he's...he's holding on," she said. 

"What happened? Please..." he begged, feeling his throat tighten and his stomach knot. Something in his expression got to her and she nodded. 

"Let me get the doctor," she said. "Mr...?" 

"Larabee. Chris Larabee...I'm his...his boss," Chris said, when he wanted to say lover, best friend, next of kin. 

"All right. Look, I've got nothing but his name. Can you give Melissa the rest?" she said, gently nudging him back toward the desk. "He's holding on. I'll get the doctor out here as soon as I can." 

Chris nodded, his burst of anger and impatience fading when he realized he might be keeping this nurse from helping Vin. 

Josiah stayed at his elbow, filling in answers to the questions Melissa asked when Chris' voice faltered. Chris was unable to tear his eyes away from the flurry of activity in and out of the treatment room the nurse had disappeared into, where Vin was. 

Then he saw him, on a gurney, recognized the dark hair and the long hands and fingers laying laxly at his side. He pulled away, only to be brought up short. 

"Mr. Larabee?" A doctor stood there, in scrub greens and Chris was torn, wanting to follow the gurney, knowing that despite the paleness of Vin's features he was still alive, was still holding on. 

"I'm Larabee," he said. 

"Dr. Stevens," he said and Chris nodded. Stevens was in his mid thirties, brown eyed and serious. "Your man took a bullet, lower left quadrant. We've gotten the bleeding eased and they're taking him up to get it out...stitch him up. He didn't know he'd been hit and I'm guessing you didn't either?" 

"No. No, I didn't. We thought the vest had caught them. He was on his feet, climbed down a damn ladder." 

"Vest had a lot to do with it. Bullet went through but probably got slowed. Between that and the layers of clothes he was wearing, what blood there was got soaked up and kept pressure on the wound. We took the vest off and..." Stevens looked uncomfortable but he continued. "Odd as it sounds, he was lucky. Better he took it off here than on site...he'd have bled to death before they could have gotten him here." 

"What are his chances?" Chris asked. 

"Pretty good actually. Like I said, we got the bleeding slowed, got fluids and a couple of units in him. Scalp wound is minor. Got some bruising on his chest and ribs from where the vest did stop the other bullets. Not entirely sure how that one got through." 

"High powered assault rifle," Chris said quietly. 

Stevens nodded. "Hope you got whoever was using it." 

"We did. How long?" 

"Couple of hours. They'll move him to surgical ICU. There's a waiting room there." 

Chris took a deep breath. "Thank you. We're gonna...need the vest, for evidence." 

"I'll have the nurses bundle his things...just...there's a lot of blood, Mr. Larabee." 

Chris thanked him again and waited for them to bring him a bag with Vin's clothes and another with the vest. Josiah took the bags and walked with Chris to the elevators and up to the waiting room. "I'm going to check on Ezra, Chris." 

Chris shook off the shock, partly. "I should go." 

"I checked. They are going to discharge him. I'll bring him up here. Sit down before you fall down, boss. Vin is a fighter. He'll be all right." 

Chris knew he should argue, should check on Ezra himself but he couldn't move. He only sat where Josiah left him, watched as the man left their names and Vin's with the nurse at the desk and then just stared. 

He didn't need to ask himself how it had happened or why. It was part of what they did, who they were, the job, the danger...he knew the risks as well as any member of his team. The ATF might have the highest conviction rate of any Federal agency, but they paid a high price for that...and knew it going in. But there were ops that could be simpler. Should be easier. This hadn't been one of them. Windham had been a wildcard. They hadn't really wanted to take him -- not yet. They wanted to follow him for his supplier, use those connections to stop the flow of such high powered weapons onto the street, into the international market. 

But one way or another they wanted the guns Windham had off the street. That had been the primary goal, establishing a relationship between Ezra and Windham secondary if they could manage it. They'd had the manpower, had it covered hours before the meet. 

Vin had been their insurance, as he so often was, eye in the sky, and mercilessly accurate. It wasn't often that the sharpshooter drew fire -- more often than not, he was the one who kept things under control. He should have been invisible. 

Would have been except for the damn fireworks. Chris hadn't even thought about it. It never occurred to him that the fireworks display scheduled from downtown would have so brutally exposed Vin to danger. He'd never make that mistake again. He prayed, despite the assurances of the doctors, that he wouldn't have to pay for it this time, anymore than he had. 

He fingered the heavier of the two bags and opened it. He didn't want to open the other one, able to feel the damp weight of it even without seeing the blood soaked clothes hidden by the dark plastic. 

He pulled the vest free, wrinkling his nose at the coppery smell, the scent of sweat and blood. He counted four dimples across the chest and found the tear, the puncture and tearing where a bullet, the only bullet that mattered, had managed to work its way through. He could see what the doctor had not, the faint gap at the side between the two panels of Kevlar, allowing the vest to fit securely around a man's chest. And Vin had worn shirts, three at least, almost unable to get the vest on over it, Chris all but laughing at him when Buck had been called on to secure the straps. Vin had looked like some Victorian lady getting laced into a corset. He'd glared at all of them and bitched about not freezing to death just to save any of their sorry asses. 

Thank God. He never thought he'd thank anyone for Vin's cold-naturedness. Drove him crazy at home, even when the house was warm, having to peel Vin out of layers of clothing before he could lay his hands on warm skin. Irritated him when they were out, when Vin would bitch about being cold and ask why they didn't have the office someplace decent, like Phoenix or Atlanta or San Antonio, where it was warm. 

He shoved the vest back into the bag and leaned back. Vin was alive. He needed to be grateful for that. He'd never ride him again about being cold. But even thinking it, he desperately wanted to see Vin's face, hear his voice. He regretted the impatience of his last words, even though he'd only been worried. 

They'd known they wouldn't get a New Year's eve celebration this night. The op had been in the works for weeks, they'd known about the buy for days. But even so...it was supposed to take place earlier in the evening. Make the buy, write it up and wait. A few hours and they'd be done by midnight or one, have a couple of drinks with the team and head back to the ranch. Vin had told Chris he preferred to greet a New Year at dawn, when the sun came up and warmed the earth, breaking in a new day, a new year. 

Chris had liked the idea. A warm fire, maybe some champagne, some food, and he could watch the sun rise with Vin's arms wrapped around him. It would give him a chance to say thank you for every moment of the last few months, from the minute Vin had walked into his life, to the moment he'd walked into Chris' arms. 

He shouldn't have waited. He'd gotten easy with it, with he and Vin, their relationship falling into place with remarkably few bumps or snags, puzzle pieces fitting together so naturally it felt like Vin had always been there. He'd felt that way with Sarah as well and had forgotten -- or not really forgotten but managed to put aside from time to time -- just how easily he could lose it all again. 

"Mr. Larabee?" the nurse stood at the door and he sat up. "They are moving your friend into recovery. He should be up here in about thirty minutes." 

"Can I see him? I mean -- just for a few minutes..." 

She frowned but nodded. "Let me check, okay? And --," she glanced down the hallway at a sound. "I think you have company," she said and Chris got to his feet, seeing Josiah and Ezra and Buck and JD, the latter two still wearing their ATF jackets. Ezra had his arm in a sling, bloody jacket and shirt draped over his bandaged shoulder. 

"Nathan's checking with the docs," Buck said and Chris nodded. 

"They just took Vin to recovery. Ezra...you supposed to be here? You all right?" Chris asked, feeling guilty. He should have checked on his man instead of sitting here cataloguing his faults and regrets. 

Ezra didn't seem to be put out or hurt, if anything he looked a little angry. Maybe guilty. He held up papers. "Discharged. I'm...I'm sorry, Chris. I should have pulled the clip," he said and it took Chris a moment to figure it out what he was talking about, then he shook his head. 

"Not your fault, Ezra. None of it. Just...damn fireworks," he said and let that settle, realizing he couldn't blame himself either. Not really. It wasn't helping Vin or Ezra, or himself. He reached out to grip Ezra's good shoulder. "I'm glad you're okay." 

Ezra studied his face for a long moment and then smiled slightly and nodded. "Vin will be all right as well." 

"Your lips to God's ear, brother," Josiah said. 

"Mr. Larabee?" Chris looked up and the nurse beckoned him over. "You can see him. First floor, follow the green stripes and give your name at the desk." 

Chris thanked her and turned to tell the others to head out, but as one they settled on chairs and couches and Buck made a shooing motion. Chris only shook his head and smiled before heading down the hall. 

He found Nathan outside the surgical wing and felt a huge relief when Nathan smiled. "Talked to the surgeon. Fella I know...Vin came through fine. He's down a few pints but they got the bullet out clean, stopped the bleeding. He's bruised up and will be in the surgical ICU overnight then be few days here, off for a week or so. But he's good, Chris." 

"You see him?" 

Nathan nodded. "For a minute. He was still out. He looks worse than he is, Chris. Remember that." 

"I will. The boys are upstairs. Maybe you can talk Ezra into heading home." 

"With about as much luck as I'd have talking you into it," Nathan said and patted Chris' back. 

Chris figured that was true and took Nathan's words to heart as he checked in with the desk. 

He was glad of Nathan's warning. Vin was bled out white, the dried blood at his temple and the darkness of his hair and brows and eyelashes looking almost black against skin so pale it looked like typing paper. The nurses had pulled the blanket up high, IV line still taped in place, with an antibiotic piggybacked on top of it, oxygen canula under his nose, a saturation indicator on his finger and a BP cuff still in place, automatically taking his vitals every fifteen minutes or so. Even as Chris watched, the cuff inflated, tightened and the constriction roused a response in Vin. Chris watched him stir sluggishly and moved closer, stroking through his hair and laying his palm against the back of Vin's hand. He wasn't really sure Vin was waking but a nurse stopped by to check the readings and smiled at him. 

"Go ahead and talk to him. Makes it easier to come out of it," she advised. 

Chris nodded but he felt self-conscious, almost more so than he did touching Vin. He hadn't really had time to process this all -- from worry earlier to outright fear and back to hope. It was a little overwhelming all mixed with the normal letdown rush after an op. Closing his eyes briefly, he felt them burn and blinked a couple of times to clear his vision. 

"I'm here, Vin. You're okay..." he said but here was nothing much behind the words. He wasn't used to Vin being this quiet. This still. Oh, he was quiet, a damn miser with words sometimes, but there were more ways to communicate than with words and Vin Tanner had one of the most extensive vocabularies of anyone Chris had ever met. 

"Easy fer you to say." It wasn't even a whisper but Chris had been straining so hard to hear anything, he caught the words, the breath. Vin swallowed, eyes still closed, and Chris found the pitcher of water and a washcloth, moistening the other man's lips then let Vin suck on the washcloth a little. 

"Took a good one," Chris said, the backs of his fingers pressed against the pale cheek. Vin's skin was cool. "Too stubborn though..." 

Finally Vin blinked and then squinted at the lights even though Chris thought the cubicle was pretty dim. "How's Ezra?" he asked, more sound to his voice. 

"Waiting upstairs to make sure you are all right. You remember it?" 

"I remember scaring the hell out of Ruby," Vin said blinking again and Chris had no idea who Ruby was. "Scared me too..." 

"I know the feeling," Chris said softly and eased back a little as a nurse entered and smiled at Vin. 

She ran through her checks quickly, making sure Vin knew where he was. He was still groggy, but not all the anesthesia had worn off, so he didn't show any signs of discomfort until they got ready to move him. The gurney bumped a little when the wheel locks were released and Chris watched Vin close his eyes swiftly and tightly. The nurse saw it too. 

"We'll give him something for the pain when we get him to his rooms and hooked up," she promised before Chris could ask. 

They let him walk along but the ICU nurses chased them all away when they reached the floor, including Chris. 

"Jeez," Buck said softly after only a glimpse. "You sure they stopped the bleeding before he lost it all?" 

"Maybe not," Nathan said with a faint smile. "Could be pure Texan stubbornness keeping him going." 

"Or maybe somebody upstairs just likes that boy," Josiah said on a chuckle. "He and Ezra seem to be keeping the angels working overtime." 

"I'd be happy to be able to direct their heavenly interventions elsewhere," Ezra said. "Maybe if I got a job as a delicatessen manager..." 

"With your luck, you'd get robbed," JD said with a quick grin. 

"Very likely," Ezra said but his eyes were fixed on where the nurses were settling Vin and he took a deeper breath when one of them approached. 

"You can see him, but really just for a minute or so, and only two at a time. We just set him up on pain meds so it's unlikely he's going to be awake long," she said and went back to the desk. 

Chris let the others go first, Nathan and Josiah and then Buck and JD. He wasn't surprised that Ezra hesitated: the man was twitching and nervous and not only from his own wound. 

Josiah picked up the two bags, offering to take them back to the office -- the vest anyway -- and see if he could salvage anything of Vin's clothes. Chris let him, not sure he could stand to handle the blood soaked cloth again even if it was only to carry the bag to the trash. 

"You staying, Chris?" Nathan asked. 

"As long as they'll let me," Chris said. "I know they'll be looking for a report but Travis knows where to reach me." 

"Got this place on his speed dial," Nathan agreed. "Ezra, don't stay. Buck'll give you a ride." 

"Apparently someone will have to," Ezra said. "I think the mop up team was still prying bullets out of the Jag." 

"Teach you to refuse to use one of the department vehicles," Buck said, coming out of the room. "He's fading fast. If you need a ride, Ezra, I'll wait. JD has to get the van back to the office anyway." 

"Your offer is accepted, Mr. Wilmington," Ezra said with a ghost of a smile. "I won't be long." he headed to the room, his lack of words saying more about his state of mind to his companions than anything. 

Buck laid a hand on Chris' arm. "You want me to swing by Vin's place and get clothes for you?" 

Chris shook his head. "No thanks, Buck. I'll go myself in a little bit. Just make sure Ezra gets home okay and doesn't beat himself up too badly." 

"You do the same for Vin, when he starts, and--" 

"--he will," Chris finished for him with a tired smile. 

"Predictable cuss," Buck said with a grin and then wrapped Chris in a bear hug. "He's okay, pard," he said, softly so only Chris could hear and Chris swallowed and hugged Buck back. 

"Yeah. He will be. Happy New Year, Buck." 

"We'll properly celebrate it this weekend," Buck promised, releasing him and Chris headed for the room. 

Chris lingered in the doorway. Ezra was sitting precariously braced on the edge of the high rolling stool the nurses used to enter information into the room's terminal, leaning forward with his good hand on the bed. Vin was out again as near as Chris could tell, taking some solace in the rhythmic beeps and blips of the monitoring equipment and Ezra was speaking quietly enough not to be heard above even that minor noise. 

Chris didn't want to intrude, studying the two of them, wearily occupying his mind with the idea that they were really alike in a lot of ways. Not in coloring necessarily. Ezra, despite dark hair, would always be fair skinned and those emerald eyes could be as hard and cool as the gemstones they resembled. He was all polish and nerve, and Vin all ease and guts, earthier in his coloring, in his manner, hair as dark as rich brown earth and eyes as clear as a summer sky. 

But they both were intensely private men, physically and emotionally distant to the casual eye, neither giving their trust easily and both likely to react like wounded animals if that trust were betrayed. There was a friendship there that Chris didn't always understand but knew it ran both ways and deeply for both men and the near disaster at the warehouse would leave them both battling for supremacy in claiming who had let who down more heavily. He shook his head. Even he knew there were times when responsibility could be taken to extremes. 

Vin wasn't asleep Chris noted, only keeping his eyes closed and he found his own lips curving up when Vin smiled at something Ezra said and then both of them, like they'd planned it, turned to regard Chris. 

"Whatever it is the pair of you are planning, just get over it now," Chris warned, but he was glad to see the hint of mischief in Vin's tired eyes and the blatantly mocking affront on Ezra's face. 

"No plan, Mr. Larabee...just an understanding," Ezra said and briefly clasped Vin's hand before rising. "I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Tanner." 

"Reckon so," Vin said and Ezra gave him a wink and a two fingered salute. He said good night to Chris and stopped at the desk, Buck coming up to join him for a moment before they headed out. Vin shifted uneasily and Chris moved, offering his own hand to give Vin some leverage, then hitching his hip onto the bed and retaining his clasp on Vin's hand when the younger man settled. "You know, every time you two put your heads together, I get nervous." 

Vin smiled, might have laughed but even the slight much movement had left him wiped out again. "Nothing to be nervous about," he said, fingers tightening on Chris'. "Settling something." 

Vin's eyes slid closed and Chris decided he wouldn't get anything more from his lover and that was fine, but when he tried to leave, Vin's hand tightened on his again and Chris found the startlingly blue eyes fixed on his face. Vin said nothing but Chris got the message and settled in. He was a little surprised when the nurses didn't come throw him out. He pulled a chair close to the bed and found the most comfortable position he could. Vin hated hospitals but he didn't seem that anxious to get out, which worried Chris a little bit. 

He dozed off and on for a couple of hours, waking when the nurses came in to check their patient, then fell asleep once more and woke to find Vin's hand in his hair, stroking through it, watching him sleep. He lifted his head and felt the rough callused caress along his cheek and neck. He turned his face into it, lips brushing Vin's palm before he captured the hand in his own. Vin's hand felt warmer. "Aren't you the one 'sposed to be getting some rest?" he said, head feeling thick and body protesting the slumped over position. 

"Am resting. Just ain't sleeping," Vin said with a small grin. There was color in his cheeks too, now, just a touch, and even though Chris knew the nursing staff would be monitoring Vin for fever, he couldn't help but touch Vin's face. He just needed to make sure that color was because there was more blood in his body and not the flush of a rising temperature. 

He glanced back and saw no one immediately at the desk and rose up, leaning over his lover to brush his lips against Vin's. He felt Vin respond but didn't give him the chance for much. "Yer a fucking tease, Larabee," Vin said and Chris grinned at him. 

"Not a tease, Vin. Just a promise," Chris said and stood up. "Need to find the facilities," he soothed when Vin held onto his hand, frowning slightly and Chris was pinched with worry again. Vin wasn't usually one to cling. "I'll be right back." 

Vin nodded and Chris left him, found the bathroom and splashed some cold water on his face and snagged a cup of coffee from the nurse's station when they offered. When he returned Vin was still awake, watching one of the nurses draw the vertical blinds back revealing a panoramic view of the mountains surrounding Denver. It was dark still, but Chris thought he could detect the graying of the skies and that heralded dawn. 

Vin wasn't allowed coffee but he could have clear liquids and one of the nurses brought him some ginger ale and fresh water, Chris supporting him while he sipped at the cold liquid and found Vin struggling to stay awake. 

"Vin, go to sleep," Chris said quietly, stroking the dark hair back. "I'll stay," he said, wondering if that was the cause of his agitation. At some point, Chris knew, he'd have to leave and get some sleep. He'd been up for nearly 24 hours straight and while he'd gone longer, he did have to do some kind of follow up at the office. Right now though, staying with Vin seemed important to the younger man and that made it important to Chris, although he'd feel better if Vin would sleep and give his body time to heal. 

"I will...just a little longer," Vin said and Chris had no idea what he meant. He sat on the bed again until he heard Vin take a deeper breath and looked down to see Vin's eyes fixed on the window. He pushed to sit up and Chris adjusted the bed a bit then followed Vin's gaze. "There it is," the Texan said softly and grinned up at Chris. 

The light eased in with a certain swiftness, gilding the mountains and the buildings in the vista, turning all to silver and gold, glinting off the new snow so brightly it made Chris' eyes ache. 

"Promised you a sunrise," Vin said, almost a whisper and Chris blinked, looking down at Vin, the restlessness having fled his lover with the first brightening of the sky. It would have been equally spectacular through the big bay window at the ranch, but this one was fine and glorious and for just a moment Chris was willing to give in to the illusion that if Vin Tanner willed the sun to rise, it damn well would. Without thinking, he slipped his arm around Vin and felt his lover settle against him as they watched the sun rise. Not what he had intended or what they had planned, but maybe all the more precious for that, among all the other sunrises they had seen or would see. 

Vin was watching sleepily, still smiling and Chris recognized the promise made and kept. He dropped a kiss on the tangled hair and rested his cheek on Vin's head. "Yeah, you did, Vin," he said. Vin didn't make promises lightly. "I got the next one, okay?" 

Vin nodded, eyes closing finally and Chris remained there for a few minutes until he was sure Vin was asleep, body lax and breathing deep and regular, before easing him back down on the bed. Vin made a small protest but finally settled and Chris sat down again, smiling to himself at the idea of fireworks and sunrises. 

It pretty much described his relationship with Vin and, God willing, always would. "Happy new year, cowboy," he said. 

Across town, watching nearly the same vista, Ezra Standish poured out three glasses of champagne and lifted one to his lips, toasting the other two glasses and the dawn. "Happy new year, my friends," he said to himself and to others that wouldn't hear him, save one would know. 

The wine was sweet and sparkling and just dry enough to linger on Ezra's palate. He hadn't seen a sunrise on purpose for longer than he cared to admit, but this one would stay with him, because it was true that any day that you started by being alive was a good one. Ezra thought he might hold onto this one for awhile. 

~~end~~ 

01/03/2002 


End file.
